The Ownership of A Star
by Wanderlustlover
Summary: One chance meeting changes two lives.


"The Ownership of a Star" Part I (Disclaimer at the end) ~*~*~  
  
He sat across from the empty booth, more startling even than some of the normal punks that hung around here, staring at me standing there, unmoving for minutes on end. I wasn't even sure he needed to breathe that first time I met him, for his chest didn't rise or fall as much as I could tell.  
  
His hair was wild and unkempt like a rocker's might have been but frazzled and yet still looked completely clean in it's shine of the dim coffee shop lights. He wore a dark outfit, but all I could make out was his plane black jeans and the boots. His hands and half of his lower arms had gloves and then there was the dark cloak. The cloak was dark blue and black all at once. It sparkled and dimmed, and sparkled.  
  
I didn't know it then but it was the night sky.  
  
"I'm not stupid. I know who you are."  
  
I was reckless. I was heedless. I was brave. I was foolish. I was sticking my head straight into a hungry lion's mouth. I was a teenager.  
  
"Do you?" He replied in a voice of silken dark resonance.  
  
I will never forget they way his first words wrapped around me, covering my entire body with them, filling the small holes inside and making me shiver at once. It was scary and -albeit I'd never have admitted it then- arousing as simply looking at him and being in his presence.  
  
His face was purely white, making me first guess that for this city, he was one of those face painting people. Some people liked it, but I was into natural. His eyes, his eyes were what freaked me about him the most really. They were dark hollows, but no real eyes, just these sparkles. Large ones, like the ones in his jacket, the darkness covering to the whole of the eye socket area on both sides.  
  
"Yeah. You're that guy supposed to be waiting on Rose. Right?"  
  
He looked relieved, pained and saddened at my words. I could tell in that moment he was one of those guys.  
  
You know. Those guys that are the 'I'm a poor pitiful puppy' expression, and make you fall in love with them within such a short time because you can't stand to see them frown, look unhappy or unpleased. The ones that turn out to be depressed homicidal maniac's and leave you feeling guilty even after you break up with them to save you own sanity ones.  
  
"Yes." He answered simply.  
  
Wasn't there supposed to more to an answer like that? Like "where is she?" or a "what's taken the girl so long?" or somethin' like that? He was the whole darkness image fledged full. Woe and Darkness was just a becoming state on him thought. Oh, god, come on, don't tell I just even thought that.  
  
"She sent me to tell you she can't make it. You two aren't, you know, having a fling or anything -right?- cause she seemed so happy with her new guy."  
  
"No."  
  
He just seemed so spooky. So mysterious. Dangerous, my mother would have said, but I never heeded her words then so why would I listen now? Like a drug. That's what they were like. A drug.  
  
"What are you called?"  
  
He'd actually asking me something? Why should he care? Most people around these parts don't care past their next injection, next meal or next night of empty passionate grunting. I for one could attest to the fact I did, but you couldn't let that show around here. If you did, they'd eat you alive.  
  
"Jem."  
  
His eyes narrowed on me. I've been a dancer before for men, on tables in places I can remember all too well, and never want to remember again, and I don't remember ever being looked at like that in all my life. He looked at me. Just looked at me. Like he was looking right through me literally. No my chest, or my ass, just looked at me, and I swore if the next thing he said was sexist or asking for one of those three things everyone asked for I'd just walk off. I wasn't one of those girls. Not anymore.  
  
"Daisy Flowers. Your parents were hippies. They thought it was cute that your little fingers curled up like small white flower petals when you were first born."  
  
I went completely rigid then thinking 'What the fuck? How in gods' name did he know that?' No on knew that name. No one here knew where or what I'd come from. Never, never said a word of it anywhere. Never.  
  
"Who the fuc-"  
  
"Now, h'ney. If yuh gonna wanna stay in muh diner, yuh best sit yuhsef down, stop yuh yellin' before it starts and order yuh food."  
  
Middle age waiting staff. Didn't want to hush up my white trash mouth!!!! The man was talking about shit he shouldn't even know about!  
  
I remember how angry and how terrified I was. The world felt so much smaller suddenly. My heart raced as I looked back and forth between the two of them, and he just looked at me still. Not like he'd know my darkest secret or even was expecting anything of me, just looked at me.  
  
Perhaps I thought he suddenly looked at me like my parents had, like I was just a child, but he seemed so much older all at once then, too. Older than anyone I'd ever met or even seen in a picture.  
  
"Yuh gonna sit girl or go?" When I didn't answer she turned to look at him. She was hardened, she didn't give a shit what he looked like, just that he was gonna spend money and wanted to know if I was, too.  
  
"Yuh two eaten togetfur or what?"  
  
"That's up to her."  
  
He had that expression. That one of empty, yet hopeful, uncaring, I would see again, and now never be able to forget. It was easier not knowing who he was, not knowing that the head can easily forget what the heart can't, and knowing the dreaming always would.  
  
I slid into the booth. Not sure why I didn't run. Maybe I should of, but I never would be here today if I hadn't, and I'm sure If I asked him now, I could go back and unwish the moments, unwish even stepping into the dinner, but I'll probably never know if that's true or not now either.  
  
"So's wuz yoh two want?"  
  
"A cup of your best coffee."  
  
"An for yoh? Sugah? Hey, girlie, what yuh want? Blasted kids, yuh have ta repeat thing like seventeen times."  
  
"C-offee for me, too." I stuttered the word, staring at him now, starting to get the oddest feeling of dejavu as I tried not to squirm and feel like I was going to get killed. You could in town like this, and a place like that.  
  
So why'd I sit down? Way I see it; it was one of two things.  
  
"I...know you. Don't I?"  
  
I was reckless. I was heedless. I was brave. I was foolish. I was sticking my head straight into a hungry lion's mouth. I was a teenager.  
  
"Yes."  
  
He was one of those guys that are the 'I'm a poor pitiful puppy' expression, and make you fall in love with them within such a short time because you can't stand to see them frown, look unhappy or even unpleased.  
  
To Be Continued.  
  
Disclaimer: Some are Vertigo, mainstream Sandman and Dreaming characters, and some are mine. Don't sue because *looking around her room* I am just a happy, but poor comic book store worker, trying to get out the stories inside so Lucien isn't the only one with them. I don't have the money for those prosecuting and if i do *smirk* you can't have it because i need it for more comics.  
  
Feedback: Very much welcome, good or bad, but flamers don't make me tie anyone down. I've over and done with that but I'm sure i can find something to stake you down with and some creatures to leave to play with you. 


End file.
